The Parental Evolution
by Bella Duveen79
Summary: On the night Missy's baby was born, Mary's thoughts turn to the past when Sheldon finds some old letters. Maybe, she thinks, her past can help his future, as she tells him the story of how things were between her and George, hoping to make him understand the past doesn't need to hold back the development of his relationship with Amy.
1. Chapter 1

**The Parental Evolution**

**Chapter 1 **

Galveston, December 2013

It had been an emotional evening. Missy was sleeping upstairs after her labour, and Mary couldn't stop looking over at her tiny grandson. He'd worn himself out in the end – she knew he would. She looked up at the sound of footsteps coming in, and smiled as her younger son came to sit down beside her.

'Oh, he's asleep. Finally, a bit of peace!' Sheldon sounded exasperated, but Mary still caught the proud, slightly awed look in his eyes as he looked over towards the cot.

'Yeah, just like his Momma,' she replied, with a smile.

'After all I did, I ought to be the one asleep!'

'After all you done?' Mary laughed. Men had no idea. She noticed something fluffy then, that Sheldon was turning over in his hands, seemingly unsure what to do with it.

'What you got there, hon?'

'Oh…it's…just something I found in the loft…'

'Aw, that's sweet, honey!' Mary exclaimed, taking the soft, well-loved stuffed koala. 'I remember him…ya wouldn't sleep without him!'

'Yeah…well…' Sheldon looked embarrassed. 'If he was still crying, I thought that might stop it.'

'I'm sure he'll sleep all the better for havin' a little friend!' Mary smiled, tucking the koala in gently.

'I certainly hope so. Oh, and mother? You really need to work on establishing a more streamlined storage system up there. I mean, in what universe does old correspondence fit with children's toys?'

'Old correspondence?' Mary asked, noticing something else Sheldon had.

'Yes, now I suggest we set tomorrow morning aside to…'

'Shelly, let me see that,' she said, interrupting her son's lecture on organisation. Looking somewhat miffed, he handed over the bundle of letters.

'Oh my…' Mary took a shaky breath. She hadn't seen these letters in over thirty years. 'Do you know what these are?'

'No, I was planning on classifying them properly in conjunction with any others up there tomorrow.'

Mary traced a finger over a worn envelope, lost in thought. Maybe…there were things Shelly ought to know about that time, things he ought to know about _them_…maybe, they'd help. She thought of the young lady she'd met during the cat episode a few years back, who'd taken the trouble to call and ask how to make her boy's favourite meal, who adored him like no other. Maybe, knowing what happened would help him understand what happened between them wasn't Sheldon's fault, and he could move things along with her – like he really wanted to.

_But preferably with a ring on her finger first._

'They're from your Daddy. To me. Now, I know how you remember things…'

'Of course I 'remember' things. I have an eidetic…'

'Yeah, yeah, that memory thing!' Mary didn't want her flow interrupted. 'What I'm sayin', is I know things weren't good between me an' your Daddy growin' up, but these letters here, that's your proof it weren't always like that.'

Sheldon looked blank. 'Your point being?'

'There was a time when it was good. An' I'm gonna tell you how. An' then, I'm gonna tell you why what happened weren't your fault,' Mary continued, her eyes on his.

'An' when I'm done, I hope you gonna understand that things don't have to be that way with you,' she finished, almost daring him to move.

Sheldon wanted to get back to the loft. Maybe that classification couldn't wait. But he knew that look in his mother's eyes, and knew he couldn't win.

'Fine!' He really did sound exasperated now, but sat back anyway. 'What happened?'

Galveston, September 1976

18 year old George Cooper wasn't one for musicals. Even so, here he was, having been dragged across town to watch his cousin, who belonged to some 'theatre' group, in West Side Story – as if he didn't have anything better to do than watch would-be drama queens. Once his character got shot, George was bored. Staring off into the middle distance, he worked on an improbable scenario that involved Britt Ekland knocking at his door and begging him to take her to some motel and have his way with her. He was dimly aware that one song had finished and a small group of people were gathering on stage. He lazily flicked his gaze over to them – and forgot about Britt Ekland.

At the side of the stage, one of the generic girlfriends of either a Shark or a Jet, took her place. George found his pulse speeding up and breathing grow somewhat erratic as he took in every detail of the young dark haired woman. A long ponytail fell over her left shoulder and wore a big skirt with some sort of stiff petticoat underneath and a tight shirt. She looked no different to the others, in many ways, but once he'd seen her, couldn't focus on anyone else.

After the show, George had hung around the stage for as long as he could, but she didn't come out before they had to leave. He was quiet on the journey back, regretting that he didn't even know her name.

'What you got to say to her anyway?' he thought moodily as they arrived home. She'd probably met her boyfriend straight after. Being on his High School Football team, he had a pretty good choice of girls, and yet somehow, he was thinking about this one rather than any cheerleader.

The following week, school started. It was George's final year, and there were more changes than those that usually came at the beginning of a new year. Some months back, it had been decided that his school was to merge with another in the same district, and it came as something of a shock to start somewhere else. Not that he intended anyone to see that. In an attempt to appear unfazed in front of these unfamiliar kids on their own turf, George swaggered into his new classroom…and promptly banged his knee on a desk. Sitting there, two steps in front of him, there she was.

'Whatcha doin? Catchin' flies?' The girl's voice startled George back to reality, and he reddened at the amused, irreverent smile on her face.

'Uh, nothin',' muttered the tall young man.

'You one of the new kids?' she continued, leaning forward on her desk.

'Umm, yeah…' George gathered himself enough to plonk himself at the neighbouring desk. 'Uh…you look like this girl I saw a couple weeks back…'

'Yeah?' The amused look didn't leave her face. 'Where?'

'You know Jed Cooper? West Side Story at the YMCA?'

'Yeah, I know Jed!' She almost said it too brightly for George's liking. 'You saw that?'

'Did I see you?'

'Yeah…' She smiled. 'Reckon you did…hey, what's your name?'

'George.' She smiled at the way his bright blue eyes twinkled as he looked back at her, and for the first time, felt a little shy. 'An' who're you?'

'I'm Mary.'

'Nice to meet ya Mary!' George replied, with a flash of his usual bravado. It really was.

For the rest of the week, George continued to seek out Mary at every opportunity, and she found herself starting to look forward to seeing him. She showed him around his new school, and by the end of the week had made excuses to their friends at lunch and gone off by themselves down by the football pitch.

'Reckon I'm gonna try out for the team here,' George said, hoping to impress her.

'Yeah? You play?' Mary didn't have much interest in football, but she liked the young man's attention. _So that's where you got that butt…_

'Better'n any of those kids!' He indicated a group of guys playing nearby. Mary felt his confidence, and heat on the back of her neck that had nothing to do with the warm day.

'Well, maybe I'll come see you sometime,' she offered. 'You know – if you're that good!' Dipping his gaze to the buttons running down her blouse, George determined to prove he was.

The days and weeks went by, and before long, Betty Roberts noticed the difference in her daughter. She had a light in her eyes that she'd only seen a few times in her life, and knew what it meant. Looking over at Mary, fussing over her make-up and hair hours before school, she couldn't resist.

'So what's his name?' she asked gently as Mary came to sit down.

Mary blushed. There was no hiding anything from her. 'George,' she admitted. 'One of the new kids…'

Betty smiled. 'So we gonna meet him?'

'Maybe…' She certainly hoped so.

Just before Christmas, George found himself on the porch of Mary's house, sweating profusely in spite of the cooler days. He'd never cared too much if a girl's family liked him or not. This was different, and he dreaded making a bad impression. Sitting near her, and not touching her, was getting increasingly difficult, and the tension he was under was clear in his face.

'Well, now,' Betty exclaimed after they'd eaten. 'Wasn't there somethin' out back you wanted me for, Joe?'

Joe Roberts leaned back in his chair. He knew what his wife was doing, but he hadn't quite finished apprising the boy who'd caught his daughter's eye.

'So Mary tells me you plannin' to work in the oil industry?' His voice was soft, but he needed to know some more.

'Yes Sir,' George replied, remembering his manners. 'Hopin' to get apprentice technician at Exxon.'

Joe nodded approvingly, and Mary flashed him a proud smile. She'd come to discover that almost in spite of himself, George was pretty good at what she termed 'that Sciencey stuff', even if he'd much rather be out of the classroom than in it.

He was just about to leave, when he saw his chance. 'Uh, Mary?'

'Yeah?' She drew a little closer.

'You know we got that dance thing comin' up?'

She nodded, and slightly bit her lip. She had no idea that lip bite drove him crazy.

'So you wanna go?' he asked, in a rush. 'You know, together?'

'When you say 'together'…?'

George looked her straight in the eyes then, with an intensity to his gaze that made her almost dizzy.

'Like my girl.' There was no way she couldn't be, not now.

Christmas came and went, and the days grew longer as the year swung slowly back to summer. The time passed in a happy blur for the young couple, culminating in passion filled kisses at Prom. Pressed up against him on one side and the wall on the other, Mary wrapped her arms around him in the darkened, empty classroom and moaned at his urgent caress.

'Don't go 'way, Mary…' George had pleaded earlier. 'Don't wantcha to…'

The hardness and heat of his body against her made it tempting to agree with him, but arrangements had been made, and Mary left a couple of days later to spend a month visiting various relatives scattered across Oklahoma as planned, while George started his apprenticeship.

That summer, he often thought of one evening in particular. His uncle had given them a few bottles of his home made strawberry wine. George wasn't really a wine drinker - beers and bourbon were more his style – but maybe Mary was. Ladies liked fancy wine, didn't they?

'So you wanna go home?' he'd asked, as they drew apart from a kiss. 'Got somethin' for you,' he continued, pulling the bottle out from under his seat.

Mary's eyes sparkled in the light of the street lamp opposite. 'George Cooper, are you trying to seduce me?'

George grinned. He loved how she came straight out with things, and so could he. 'You bet your ass I am!'

They'd driven down the beach that night, and strawberry tasting kisses had led to tentative explorations under her shirt, and her hand slipping his belt buckle and gently caressing hot, hard skin inside. By the time she was due to leave though, by time Prom came along, they wanted more.

Collapsing back into his mattress now, George's breathing was harsh and fast as it was that night, and his heart pounded as thoughts of her rushed him to an uncontrollable, explosive release. A few nights after she came back, the couple found themselves at the beach again, the second bottle forgotten as they wrapped their bodies around each other, pulling at shirts, buckles, buttons. The warm night, almost a year from the day they met, was still, with waves lapping gently at the shore.

Their eyes shone bright under the stars, and never broke one another's gaze as their clothing fell in a couple of messy heaps, and their kisses grew urgent and raw as their hands claimed one another for their own. Panting hard, Mary drew back, asking the question she didn't need to put into words.

'Right here,' George answered, his heart pounding as he retrieved his wallet. 'You sure?'

'Yeah…now…' She couldn't say any more, and watched transfixed as George fiddled with the small foil packet. Her gaze made him slightly nervous – he'd never done this before – but how hard could it be, he thought, grinning at the choice of words.

'OK, ready…' he breathed then. _That felt OK…bit fiddly, but…what the hell?_

Mary sat up slowly, and unbuttoned her shorts. Keeping her eyes on him, she slid them gently down over her slim hips, carelessly dragging her knickers with them. She heard George moan slightly, and saw him reach for himself.

'Like what ya see?' she asked, in a whisper, and continued to peel off her bra, its flimsy material the only barrier left.

'Can't ya tell?' George asked in return, gently parting her toned, tanned thighs and kneeling inside them. Mary let out a few shaky breaths at the sensation. Oh yeah. She could tell.

'Yeah…oh…now, please…' She tensed suddenly as one finger ran over her, seeking the tight, wet bud that made her shake and wetter still. Her moans came faster as his rhythm intensified, and then, still dazed from the release that soaked the blanket beneath them, almost pulled George into her. Bucking hard, fast, he laid roughed kisses on the soft skin of her breasts, pushing deeper inside as her cries drove him on. The tension inside him was becoming unbearable, blowing up like a summer storm that suddenly cracked the sky.

With one last cry, he collapsed onto her, heart racing, chest shaking. She was his. Wrapping his arms around her, George just held Mary for a while, as they slowly remembered who they were. As he did so, George voiced the only thought he was able to express.

'My Mary. Love ya so much…'

'I love you too…' Her words were slower than usual, from far away.

It was only a couple of minutes later, when Mary shifted slightly to sit up, that something felt a bit – odd. Gently, her own fingers searched lower and felt something just inside.

'Uh, George?' she asked, uncharacteristically embarrassed. 'Is it meant to do that?'

'What?'

'Feels like it…sorta slipped off…'

George looked down at the wet latex she held by her fingertips. A shot of panic hit him. _No, it wasn't._

'Uh, you know, that happens sometimes…it's OK…' He fervently hoped it was.

'Yeah…' Mary agreed, suddenly needing her clothes. 'Why, there's ladies tryin' years to fall, an' nothin' happens…it's fine…'

Neither of them really sounded convinced.

Of course, Mary had finished that part of the story long before she went that far. As soon as she made the briefest mention of George Jr's conception, Sheldon had moved her on hurriedly, but that didn't mean she didn't remember.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Galveston, October 1977

Betty had just sat down with a cup of coffee to enjoy on her day off, when the phone rang.

'Hello, Mrs Roberts? It's Shirley here, from Belle Parisienne…'

Shirley Taylor was the formidable, beehive-haired proprietor of the beauty salon Mary had recently started working in.

'Hi Shirley. What's up?'

'Well, it's Mary. She keeled over right there on the floor just now, and she's feelin' pretty sick…can you come an' get her? She can't work today.'

'Oh, yeah!' Betty replied with concern. 'Tell her I'll be right there!'

Once she had brought Mary home, she settled her into bed.

'Did you eat somethin', honey?' Betty asked. 'Looks like you got a nasty bug.'

Mary didn't look at her, fiddling instead with the covers. 'Yeah, maybe…'

'Well, I'll just let you get some sleep. You want anythin'?'

'Just some water, please Momma. My mouth still feels like…I don't know. No matter how much I swallow, it gets all filled up again.'

At that, Betty nodded slowly. 'I'll get you some,' she said, getting up before her daughter could see the flash of concern at her words. She remembered that when…she wouldn't, would she?

Truth be told, Mary herself didn't know until later that week. She'd always had a very regular 'time of the month', and this month, she didn't. On her third day at home, Betty had come back to find her crying inconsolably.

'Mary, honey, what's wrong?' Betty asked, hoping against hope that it was what she suspected.

'I'm sorry, Momma…' she managed. 'I'm so sorry…'

Betty sat down heavily on the bed next to her daughter, and paused for a moment before speaking.

'Uh, Mary? Is this anythin' to do with George?'

She nodded and wrapped her arms tighter around her pillow, burying her face in it. How could she have done this? They loved each other, but would he after this? If he knew?

Betty brushed Mary's hair back from her face. 'So…after we got back…you two went out that night…I'm guessin' things happened…'

Mary blushed and nodded. Betty sighed. It didn't seem so long ago that the only men in her daughter's life were the ones in the posters on her bedroom wall, and now she was going to have a child of her own?

'Do you know for sure?'

'I think so.'

'But you've not been to the doctor?' Maybe there was still some hope.

'No…What's Daddy gonna say?' At that, Mary started crying again.

'Well…if you are…it's gonna be a shock, but…' At that she reached over to cradle Mary in her arms, like she had when she was small. '…you're still our little girl. I can't say it'll be easy,' she continued, her own voice breaking slightly, 'but we'll look after you, you know?'

'I know.'

Later that day, Dr Peterson confirmed that Mary was about a month pregnant, and there had been more tears as she heard her mother leave to have a word with her father. When Joe came upstairs, she could see he'd been crying too.

_He should have watched her better_, Joe thought, desperately trying to work out where they went from here. _There was more they could have done…that boy better do the right thing…_

'Mary…' He sat down and held her close. 'I know. I'm sorry.'

'You don't need to be sorry, Daddy…it's my fault…'

Joe sighed. 'It's OK. It's gonna be OK. Now, from what I seen, George loves you, and…he's gonna have to know.'

Mary nodded. 'But what if he don't wanna know?'

Joe licked his suddenly dry lips. 'Then me and his Daddy gonna have a little talk with him. Either way, we'll look after you.' Just the thought of George leaving his little girl high and dry was hard to bear.

It was nearly a week later, before Mary found the courage to tell him. George knew something was wrong as soon as he'd seen her. _She hadn't wanted to see him when she was sick, and now she was saying she had something to tell him? Were they breaking up?_

'George, can you come an' sit here?' she asked, positioning herself gingerly on a park bench.

'Yeah.' He lit a Malboro with slightly shaking fingers and took a couple of quick puffs.

'George?' she asked then, staring into the distance. 'I love you, you know? Do you love me?'

'Course I do!' He shifted slightly to wrap an arm around her shoulders, and felt her shiver.

'Well…' She paused again. 'See…we're gonna have a baby…'

George couldn't move. He couldn't have heard that right. 'What?'

'Yeah.'

'Uh…you know that?'

'Yeah.' George took a few more heavy drags, as though he needed them. A kaleidoscope of thoughts jostled for space in his brain. They didn't have enough money; they didn't have anywhere to live, his Mary was carrying his baby. His little boy or girl…

Instinctively, he pulled her close. She could feel his shoulders shaking like hers.

'OK…OK…' He didn't really know what to say. 'It's OK…' They stayed there, for quite some time that day, just holding and kissing one another. Mary cried a little. George wanted to, but wouldn't. Not in public – not in front of her. Their lives had been changed forever, and neither really knew what would happen next.

Later that evening, Jack Cooper came home to find his son sitting in a darkened room, the only illumination shining in from the street lamps outside and his cigarette, wastefully consuming itself as he stared into shadows.

Abruptly, he switched the light on, and sat opposite his son.

'Whatcha doin'?' he asked. 'The game's on.'

George looked over at his father, a tall, tough Korean War veteran who'd spent most of his working life in construction, who'd brought him up on his own since his mother died when he was 12. _What would he say?_

'Just thinkin''

'What about?' Jack leaned back, and lit a Malboro of his own. _Something wasn't right with that boy, if he wasn't watching the game._

George looked away, and stubbed his out. There was no easy way to say this.

'Mary's gonna have a baby.'

Jack sat up sharply at that. 'What?'

'Yeah.' George took a hearty swig from the beer by his side.

'Well, uh…' This wasn't an area Jack was comfortable with. 'She's a nice gal…uh…you know what you gotta do, right?' _If they got the practicalities sorted, things would start making sense…_

'Yeah.' Marriage…he'd maybe wanted to marry Mary someday…but not right now…

'OK…good…uh…' Jack wished his Kathy was still here. She'd know what to say. '… no grandbaby of mine growin' up without their Daddy.'

'I know. They won't.' George was still in shock, but he knew that much. He wouldn't leave his kids.

Jack nodded slowly, and rose to clap his son on the shoulder. 'OK. Can't say it's gonna be easy, but…you want another beer? Reckon you need it.' With that, Jack left, returning with two bottles of Pabst, both to toast and comfort his son in the only way he really knew how.

'That was Grandpa Jack's solution? To give him a drink?' Sheldon asked incredulously.

Mary was quiet for a moment. 'He didn't drink so much then. I'll always remember how he said he found him there though, alone in the dark. Anyway, not long after that, he asked me to marry him…'

Galveston, February 1978

There hadn't been much time to plan a wedding, but the local Baptist church was nearly full with various Cooper-Roberts relatives, and Shirley had done an amazing job with Mary's hair and make-up. Betty was still a little upset that Mary couldn't wear her wedding dress like she'd always hoped she would, but the soft, billowing folds she was covered in flattered her growing bump quite nicely.

As Mary arrived with her father on that fine Spring afternoon, before they went in, Joe turned her to face him.

'Mary, I know this probably wasn't what you had planned, and I don't want you to do it unless you're sure. Whatever you decide, OK?'

'I know,' she smiled in reply. 'It's gonna be OK though. George's Dad got us a little house to rent he was working on, and, well…' She gently stroked her stomach. 'Couldn't ask for a better man.'

Joe smiled tightly, tears in his eyes. He hoped so. He really did.

An hour or so later, Mary Roberts was Mary Cooper. They moved into the little house down by the Mall, and the next few months passed. By June, the temperature had climbed sharply, and Mary went into labour one morning in humid, 80 degree stickiness that seemed to cling to her and mix with the sweat of exertion on crisp hospital sheets. It only grew warmer as her labour progressed, and as the first rolls of thunder split the sky, her baby boy was born.

'Mr Cooper?' called the young nurse. George hadn't stopped smoking since they'd arrived, and was perched, as so many fathers were, awkwardly on the hard plastic seats in the corridor outside.

'Yeah? Is she OK?'

'Your wife is fine,' she reassured him, leading him through. 'And you have a beautiful baby boy!'

George rushed to Mary's side, almost faint at the first sight of his new son.

'Hi,' she said, a rather dazed look in her eyes. They'd probably given her something, for the pain. Turning to the baby, she continued. 'This is your Daddy.'

'Wow.' George was speechless. 'I'm so proud of you. An' this is our boy…'

'Yeah…you wanna hold him?'

George was more used to working on complex petrochemical machinery than holding a baby, and he was quite concerned that he would do it wrong, but took him anyway. His eyes were closed, and he waved his tiny fists, seemingly in protest at having been moved.

'Where's your Momma?' Betty had been with her throughout.

'She just went for a drink…she'll be back soon…what do you think?'

He couldn't really put it into words. 'My boy. George Jr…' The name just seemed to fit.

'George Jr…' Mary repeated, and closed her eyes.

Some months passed. Mary had never been so tired in her life. There was a time, she knew, when she wasn't awake mixing up bottles in the middle of the night, then trying to get George Jr to feed, changed and somehow back to sleep, but right now, it was hard to imagine. George Sr wasn't getting much sleep either, but it was more than her. Then all the normal household tasks of washing, cooking and cleaning had to be done too. It wasn't a man's job, she told herself, to do all that stuff, but she was just so tired. One day, after George had finally fallen asleep, she'd fallen exhausted into bed, and completely forgot about dinner that evening.

At the plant, George's day wasn't going too well either. He'd miscalibrated something, and the main pump was suddenly splurging Brent Crude all over the factory floor. His supervisor had torn him off a strip for lack of due care and attention, and made it clear in no uncertain terms that it was money leaking over that floor, and if he wanted to continue to earn his he'd get it fixed. George Jr had been up in the night, as ever, and he'd just lost concentration for a moment. By the time he came home, he was dirty, tired and harried, and wanted nothing more than to play with his son for a little before bed, eat a nice dinner, and relieve some of the day's tension with his wife.

It was a disappointment to find an empty kitchen, to say the least. As his footsteps sounded on the stairs, George Jr woke up with an angry cry at discovering he was wet and hungry, and Mary slowly poked her head round their bedroom door.

'Mary?' he asked in surprise. 'What's for dinner?' Under different circumstances, he knew, he would have noted the tired circles under her eyes, but his son's screaming and his already bad day combined to make him less observant than usual.

'What? George, I just woke up,' Mary replied, still quite sleepy.

'You just woke up? So, what, there's no dinner?'

'No!' she retorted sharply then, scooping up George Jr, who wailed even louder at his mother's tone. 'I have been runnin' round after your son all day, and when I finally get a chance to get some sleep I'm supposed to be cookin'?'

George was taken aback slightly at that. Mary had never been that sharp with him before.

'OK. Right…so…you got any chicken?' Thoughts of her fried chicken that evening had kept him going.

'No, I don't!' She still sounded upset as he followed her and George Jr downstairs. Struggling to keep him still on the changing mat, she called back to her husband. 'We got spaghetti, an' those hot dog sausages – you want that?'

George sat down heavily on the couch and cracked open a beer. Well, it wasn't what he was hoping for, but…

'Yeah, great. Thanks honey.' He missed his mother's cooking, and Mary did tend to spoil him as a result. It wouldn't kill them to have something different tonight…

'You know, thinkin' back, that was the first fight we had,' Mary said, looking over at Sheldon. 'Over somethin' stupid like dinner…but that stuff builds up.'

'Is that the first time you made spaghetti and little hot dogs?' Sheldon was more interested in that, really, than any deep emotional revelations.

'Yeah, I think it was, but anyway, the point is, you know Amy's havin' a hard day, don't come home expectin' dinner on the table!'

Sheldon thought for a moment. If Amy was at home with…someone…he'd be sure to text her to see how she was, and in such circumstances, they had an extensive collection of take-out menus available. That seemed like an acceptable contingency plan.

'I imagine we would make appropriate arrangements,' he managed, not wishing to dwell too much on the reason she would be home, or the warm, excited feeling it gave him.

'Good. See you do.'

Galveston, September 1979

Time passed, and although life with George Jr settled down, it hadn't been an easy ride. It was becoming apparent that George, having been without his mother for so long, tended to assume his wife would fill the gap, looking after his every need as well as the baby's. Oh, and she was back putting in a full day's work at Belle Parisienne to cover the bills. Betty looked after George Jr when she could; otherwise a sizeable part of that paycheck went on daycare. The petty arguments hadn't stopped, but then the reconciliation would be hot enough to make them forget, until the next time. One night, after they'd 'made up', Mary turned to George in bed.

'You want another round?' he asked, sleepy yet hopeful.

Mary smiled. 'Ain't no stoppin' you…but…that's not what I meant.'

'What is it?' George turned to look at her, concerned.

'Well, you know…we didn't really plan George Jr, but even though we argue sometimes, he brought us closer, don't you think?'

'Yeah…' George slowly started tracing a hand up her thigh, not really listening now as his mind went elsewhere.

'So…I was thinkin'…' Mary began, lying back and letting him touch her. 'What if we do…you know? Try again?' Surely that would bring them closer still – like they were when they met.

'Another kid?' He hadn't really considered it, but…he'd been so proud, seeing Mary carrying his child.

'A little brother or sister for George Jr?' she asked, her hand making explorations of its own.

'Uh…yeah…' His agreement was more of a moan as her lips joined her hand. If it meant more sex, who was he to complain…He'd been quite 'frustrated' lately, with Mary being so tired most of the time. He hadn't meant to think of the new young receptionist, with her soft blonde hair and short skirts when he…took matters into his own hands…but…if Mary wanted him again, that would stop, right?


	3. Chapter 3

'Well then, of course, you an' Missy came along…' Mary began.

'Yes, OK, moving on!' said Sheldon then, interrupting her quickly. The story of his conception was probably even more mortifying than George's. Mary smiled, and did as he said, but couldn't help but think back to another night that September…

Later that month, George and Mary were invited by one of the guys on George's High School Football team to his 21st birthday party. Mary especially was keen to enjoy a rare night out – not that George was missing out. He'd been out celebrating this particular birthday, it seemed, for the past week, falling into bed past midnight and keeping her awake drunkenly snoring all night. Still, she decided that tonight would be a good night. Her Ronson curlers had been in for hours, and she'd even been to K-Mart to pick up a new outfit. Staring at her quickly regained slim figure in the mirror, Mary was proud of her petite breasts jutting out under the V-neck of her catsuit and small waist pulled in by a large belt. She slipped her heels on as she heard her parents arrive to watch George Jr, and as she stepped on to the stairs, George looked up at his wife and felt his breath catch. _This was what it was all about_, he thought, admiring her. They handed George Jr over to Betty and Joe, and headed out to a nearby bar.

'Hey, Cooper!' Tony Lanza was already well on his way when they arrived, leaning heavily on the bar. 'So this is your good lady!' he continued, unsteadily focusing on Mary.

'Yeah, this is my Mary,' George replied with a smile. 'Hey honey,' he asked, turning to her. 'Why don'tcha go get us a couple of beers?' The request was followed up by a swift smack on her behind that had been tempting him since he saw her in that catsuit.

'George!' Mary turned to him, both embarrassed and somewhat turned on. He'd never done that in public before.

'What?' George grinned. He was definitely turned on, and wanted the guys to know what a hot wife he had.

Mary was only flustered for a moment. 'You got your money?' she asked, folding her arms and managing to sound both annoyed and slightly flirtatious.

'Yeah, yeah babe,' he replied, glancing over at Tony. 'Here ya go – get me a Bud, will ya? Tony?'

Once Mary was dispatched to get two Buds and 'whatever you like, honey', Tony turned to George.

'Wow, that's some girl you got there…' George preened at the attention. '…I just can't believe you're married though…and a kid…'

'What?' George stopped preening. 'What do you mean?'

'I'm just sayin',' Tony began, 'me, I don't know if I could ever get married. Too many hot chicks out there, you know? Don't you ever wonder if you're missin' out?'

'I ain't missin' out on nothin'!' George replied sharply, but didn't quite meet Tony's eyes.

'OK, OK…' Tony held up his hands. 'You got a hot wife…that's cool…hey, and she got our beers!' George took his, and almost downed it in one. Something about Tony's comments made him uneasy, and he didn't really want to dwell on why.

It was later in the evening that he saw her. Rod Stewart was blaring out with 'Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?' and most of his fellow team members were drunkenly singing along. Mary had gone to the bathroom.

'George?' she asked then. 'George Cooper?' Turning, he found himself face to face with Tracy Palmer, one of his former Cheerleaders.

'Uh, yeah, hi Tracy,' he answered, somewhat flushed by her sparkling gaze. Unwittingly, he dipped his eyes lower, and was pleased to see she was just as he remembered.

'…then I got into Austin,' she continued. George hadn't even realised she'd been speaking, as her pert breasts danced under his chin. _She had a lot to offer a guy…_

He only snapped out of his trance when Mary's new heels came clicking across the floor.

'So ain't you gonna introduce me to your friend?' she asked, raking cold eyes over those same breasts.

'Oh yeah…' George seemed slightly guilty. 'Mary, this is Tracy, one of the Tigers, an' this is Mary. My wife.' It almost sounded like an afterthought.

'Your wife?' After several Pina Coladas, Tracy was in no state to notice her icy reception. 'I never woulda guessed _you'd_ get married! Well, I'll be…'

'Yeah, an' his kid's _mother_!' Mary spat out the last word with jealous venom.

'Mother?' That word penetrated through Tracy's rum induced haze. 'Oh…why I…uh…congratulations!' she managed, before hurriedly excusing herself. George turned to Mary, and to his surprise found himself shoved up against the bar as Mary wrapped herself possessively into him and kissed him hard. He'd already had an eyeful of Tracy's perfect breasts, and now he had Mary practically taking him right there? This was the best evening ever!

Mary couldn't have really articulated it, as her lips crashed hungrily against his and her fingers raked through his hair, but she only thought in that moment that he was _hers_, and that _bitch_ better believe it. She pulled back, panting slightly. Even in the dim light, her eyes seemed brighter, more luminous, than usual.

'Now,' she said, looking up at him. 'I wanna go home. Now.' George drained his beer in a single gulp. He knew what that meant.

As soon as they were alone that night, Mary flashed him a devilish smile as she climbed the stairs, daring him to follow her.

'What got you so riled?' he asked, staring over at her.

'Just wantin' to show 'em what's mine…' Mary murmured, slipping out of her heels and snapping her belt from her waist. George watched, transfixed, as she slid the catsuit from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Keeping her eyes on his, she reached around to release the suddenly tight clip holding her bra in place and roughly pulled it off, followed by the rest of her underwear. Naked, she crawled onto the bed in front of him.

'Get 'em off,' she commanded. George felt himself flush. It was rare to see Mary like this, but when he did…In his haste, several buttons popped off his shirt as he tossed it into a corner, with one side of the seam slightly ripped. He couldn't get the rest of his clothes off fast enough, gratefully freeing his obvious, almost painful arousal to her raw, hungry touch.

'_This_ is mine…' Mary continued, wrapping her fingers around him tight. In that moment, it didn't matter, that they fought sometimes, that married life was usually pretty dull…in that moment, all that mattered was that they were there, together, naked and wanting.

'Oh yeah…' George was rendered incoherent with lust, only heightened as, after a few soft, slow strokes Mary could wait no longer, and trapped him between her thighs, settling herself on top of him. Their lips met roughly, and then Mary grabbed his hands and held them up over his head, bucking hard up against him. This was want, this was need, and his cries and hers only drove them on further and faster, revelling in the sensations of one another, one rigid, caught in her depths, the other warm, soft and wet, intent on driving them harder still. With one last cry, she felt him burst into her, gratefully releasing her own tension back over him some moments later.

Panting hard, Mary gently extricated herself as their bodies stilled, and fell into George's embrace. Dozily, she heard George tell her he loved her, and whispered the same back, while thinking 'It's going to be OK…it's going to be OK…'

Galveston, October 1979

The first indication she had was when she felt so much sicker than she did before, and now with a 16 month old toddler, that was a lot harder to cope with. As a result it wasn't such a surprise to Mary when she was late again, and one morning she found herself back at Dr Peterson's surgery with both George Jr and Sr in tow. After the doctor did his tests, he called the two of them in to join them.

As the young family settled before him, Dr Peterson took a quick breath. This wasn't the first time he'd needed to break such news, and he hoped it would be well received, _although at their age…with one already…it wouldn't be easy…_

'Mr Cooper, Mrs Cooper, George Jr,' he began, nodding towards the small boy. 'Good to see y'all here today.'

He paused for a moment. 'Well, everything's fine, Mrs Cooper, you are just over a month pregnant, and I can hear two good, strong heartbeats…' He paused again to let it sink in.

'Two?' Mary asked in shock. Her eyes flickered over to George. He looked just as stunned as she felt.

'Yeah, this little guy's going to have two kids to play with!' Dr Peterson said with a smile, looking back at George Jr, who was chewing the wheel of his toy car, completely oblivious.

'Are you sure, Doc?' George asked. They hadn't planned for this.

'Absolutely. There are two little babies in there. Now, you'll probably find it a bit more of strain this time round, so be sure to take it easy when you can…'

George and Mary tried to listen to the doctor's advice, but were clearly still reeling from the prospect of suddenly having three kids.

'…and be aware that twins can often come a little early. I wouldn't be surprised if we were looking at a due date of mid-late May.' he finished, collecting Mary's notes together and handing them to a nurse. 'Brenda, file these for me, would you?'

Mary did find it harder this time. The work that went into making two babies was exhausting, and now she had George Jr running about as well. Even so, there were some rare quiet moments when she had a chance to think about them more – were there two little boys in there, two girls, or one of each? A house with three boys could be hard work…but then so could two hormonal teenage girls…it would be nice if there was one of each. Would they be like each other, or very different? Would they look the same?

'Well, as you know now, we were _very_ different,' Sheldon said, emphasising just how different he was.

'Yeah, in many ways,' Mary admitted. 'But not all. You're both stubborn as mules – just like your Daddy. And of course, when the Lord brought you into this world…'

Galveston, May 1980

Shopping was the last thing Mary felt like doing that day, but there was a whole list of things they needed, and it couldn't be put off any longer. They went into K-Mart, George Jr enjoying his vantage point from the shopping cart. At some point walking down the aisles, the contentious topic of George attending Sunday School came up.

'…well, I always went, an' I think it could be good for him!' Mary countered, leaning heavily on the cart. She hadn't actually considered it for George Jr until recently, not since her Aunt Edna's funeral a couple of months back. After the service, she'd got talking to the Minister, and he made the idea of a congregation seem really nice…a little community, helping each other out…

'Mary, you ain't even been in a church except to get married an' go to that funeral since I known you!' George replied, exasperated. 'You ain't even religious!'

'Yeah, but you know, it's all about teachin' kids to be a good person…' she persisted. 'I think he should!'

'Jesus, Mary, put it this way – I ain't goin'. Had enough of that growin' up.' George was losing patience with this conversation, and George Jr, sensing the tension, started to cry.

'Yeah, look at that,' George indicated his son. 'He don't wanna go either!'

Mary's eyes flashed with anger and frustration at how obstinate he seemed to be. _He wouldn't even see what it was like…_and then all other concerns were forgotten. She was quiet as they went a little further, making sure of what it was. As they turned the corner, Mary turned to him and said:

'George, I'm gonna need to go to the bathroom, now.'

'Again? Those babies jumpin' around?' He was somewhat mollified by thoughts of his children.

'No. I think they're comin'.'

'What?' Panic was written all over his face. This was much more sudden than last time.

'Yeah…an' we better get to the hospital…'

It was all quicker this time. Mary had only been in for a couple of hours, it seemed, before the first baby came.

'That's it, honey!' exclaimed the midwife, with almost as much pride as Betty herself. 'You got a beautiful baby girl!'

Sweating with her efforts, Mary only managed to ask if she was OK. The next baby was coming.

'She looks fine!' the midwife reassured her. 'Now just a little longer, and her brother or sister'll be here too!'

It took a bit longer than expected, actually. It seemed that this baby was happy where it was, and it was about ten minutes, before…

'Oh yeah, that's it…and it's a little boy! Now you just lie back and we'll get these two cleaned up!'

When George was brought in, Mary lay propped up in bed, her mother at her side, with a pink bundle in one arm, and a blue one in the other.

'It's one of each,' she smiled. 'Just like I wanted…'

George didn't think he would be as overcome this time, but he was. Gazing down at the two tiny babies, he saw the girl sleeping peacefully, while the boy seemed quite unsettled.

'Hey, what's the matter?' he said, stroking his new son gently. He quietened slightly at his touch.

'So…you gonna name her, an' I'll name him?' Mary asked, cuddling them close. She had an idea.

'Melissa,' George said, after a moment's thought. 'Like my Aunt. When Momma died, she looked after us, an' no-one else could have Momma's name.'

'Melissa,' Mary smiled. She thought back to a book she'd read at school, some Civil War epic…wasn't that what one of the Generals was called?

'And this is Sheldon.'


	4. Chapter 4

'So how exactly is this supposed to 'help' me?' Sheldon asked, completely at a loss.

'I'd say it's helping you already,' Mary replied. 'I said it was the little things you had to think about with Amy…'

'Really, you think we haven't thought of that?' he replied, fishing his phone out of his pocket and searching for the relevant section of the Relationship Agreement. 'I'll send you the link.'

Mary smiled, and shook her head slightly, bemused. _Oh well, if that's what it takes…_

'OK honey. But there's other things to think of too, like if one of you goes away…sometimes people get tempted…' She looked away then, and a frown crossed her face.

Sheldon sat bolt upright at that. 'Why on Earth would that happen? Why would we want to do that?'

'Not sayin' you would,' Mary continued. 'But sometimes, when a relationship ain't so good, it happens…'

Sheldon shuffled awkwardly. He suspected this next part of his mother's story would be hard to hear, so let his mind wander, leading him to imagine Gundersson asking Amy back to work in Stockholm for a couple of months, and him braving the hell that was a continental, then a transatlantic flight, knocking at her door in her IKEA designed hotel, and as soon as she opened it, kissing her like he'd never let go…

'Shelly!' His mother's voice broke into his thoughts sharply.

'Uh, what?' he asked, sounding slightly guilty as a sudden heat flushed his cheeks.

'I was just remembering you in Kindergarten,' came her surprising answer. 'What were you thinkin' of?' she added with a smile.

'Nothing,' Sheldon muttered unconvincingly. 'What about Kindergarten? I always said it was nothing but a waste of time…'

'Aw, but y'all looked so cute…you remember that show you were in?'

Galveston, February 1985

Mary took her seat alongside her husband and looked towards the stage eagerly. All her children would be in the Jefferson Elementary Texas State Day Pageant this year, and she couldn't wait. First up was George Jr's Second Grade class, and they both smiled and clapped as he banged enthusiastically at his cowbell, and then they caught sight of their twins as the Kindergarten class filed into the hall. The little ones had obviously been told to walk in pairs, holding hands, but Sheldon was having none of it. He had his arms wrapped tightly round himself, while all the while twisting and turning to deflect one of Missy's friends, a small girl called Tania, trying to grab his hand.

Sheldon looked up then, and noticed just how many people were there. He looked so scared Mary wanted to scoop him up there and then, and he broke ranks to run over to his teacher, Miss Mayhew. He liked Miss Mayhew. She taught them lots of songs and had books about robots, and didn't make him do all the boring stuff that the other kids did.

Mary saw her kneel down to talk to him. She didn't know what she said, but he looked slightly better then, and as long as she went with him, agreed to stand at the very edge of the stage.

'_The stars at night…_' the children chanted then _'…are big and bright, deep in the heart of Texas…_'

Both Mary and George smiled to see Sheldon looking happier. He'd flatly refused to wear the checked shirt Mary had bought to match Missy's new dress, and was standing there in his favourite Superman shirt instead, but they were so proud.

Afterwards, Miss Mayhew caught up with them. 'Mr Cooper, Mrs Cooper? May I speak with you?'

'Oh, sure…' Mary nodded. 'You kids sit with Meemaw, OK?' she added, turning to them.

Miss Mayhew led them in to her classroom.

'Take a seat, please,' she asked, sitting down opposite them. Mary still thought she'd had a nice voice, quite low and slightly husky. She had glasses, like his Amy, but her dark hair was permed instead of straight. _Must have been smart too…_

'So did you enjoy the show?' Miss Mayhew asked with a smile.

'We sure did!' Mary answered enthusiastically, as George nodded. 'Can I ask what you said to Sheldon though? He looked so scared out there!'

'Oh, I just promised him he could get some extra work done!' She smiled again, and then her face turned serious.

'The work he wanted to get done is taken from an old text book of my brother's. He had it in Junior High.'

'Junior High?' Mary asked, trying to understand. 'He's four years old – how can he even read that?'

'He can read, Mary,' George confirmed. 'You know he can read.' He still looked puzzled though. _As if that wasn't achievement enough?_

'I know that,' Mary felt slightly annoyed, as if she didn't notice such things. 'But…how? George Jr's still readin' about farm animals and goin' to the park.'

Miss Mayhew took a deep breath. 'Mr and Mrs Cooper, your son is a very smart boy. I think it's clear that he will need a higher level of education than most children. Now, I don't see him being able to move on for a few years yet, because he is still a little boy and needs that support, but I would not be surprised if his High School graduation is far earlier than usual.'

'What? How much earlier?' Mary knew there was something different about her younger son, but she hadn't expected this.

'I couldn't say. But I think it would be wise to plan for college now. You may need the money sooner than you think.'

'Oh, I liked Miss Mayhew!' Sheldon smiled. 'She was wasted as an Elementary school teacher! But what's she got to do with it?'

'Well, not long after that, your Daddy got the chance of some extra work in New Orleans, extra money there an' promotion when he came back, and with us suddenly needin' more money, he took it like a shot…'

Even at the time though, she'd always suspected he would have taken it anyway.

Galveston, April 1985

'So when would you be goin'?' Mary asked.

'Next month sometime,' George replied.

'For how long?'

'They want us out there for a month working on the offshore drilling equipment…'

'And what about the kids' birthdays?' Mary asked, sounding rather sharper than she intended.

'What? Mary, I can't help when it is!' George snapped back, hurt at the implication.

'No,' she agreed, calmer now. 'So…you gonna take it?'

'It's more money…how can I say no? You know we need it, you know, for Sheldon…'

Mary couldn't argue with that. Miss Mayhew's words were coming true.

'So that's why he went?' asked Sheldon.

Mary nodded, but the light left her eyes. 'Yeah…and things started gettin' worse after that. I don't know for sure what happened, but I can guess…'

New Orleans, May 1985

George arrived in New Orleans a couple of weeks later with a colleague of his, and the two of them decided to celebrate a successful first week as soon as the weekend rolled round.

'The pitch was great!' exclaimed Dan Rodriguez as they shared their first beers of the evening. 'Hey, let's go out tonight – I saw this great Cajun place!'

'Yeah, sure!' George readily agreed, although they'd stuck to the hotel or the Mexican next door up until now. If he was honest about it, the thought of an unknown restaurant was a bit unsettling. As it turned out, George's slight apprehension was well justified, especially with the Gumbo that Dan had.

'Hey, Dan?' George asked as he reappeared from a prolonged visit to the bathroom. 'You OK?'

Dan had only made it as far as the bar after the restaurant, but was pale and sweating hard.

'No,' he managed. 'Hey, I got to go back. I'm sick. Never eat their Gumbo…'

'OK.' George nodded. 'C'mon, I'll drive.' George drove them back to the hotel, deposited a still sick looking Dan at his room, and feeling somewhat at a loss, wandered back to his. He tried to watch some TV, but switched it off irritably. Leaning back, he stared up at the ceiling, and wondered if he should call home.

George wasn't really a traveller. Apart from various trips to Oklahoma with Mary, he hadn't been away from home much in 27 years, and he missed it. Missed his own home, and the kids…they knew something was wrong with their other grandpa now, only a year after losing their other one…especially Sheldon. While he thought of them, it struck George then that he hadn't really thought about Mary all week, a realisation that both disturbed and liberated him. It wasn't like it was when she went away when they'd just left High School, and he didn't really want to think why.

He didn't want to call home, but he didn't want to sit in the bland, anonymous hotel room on his own. Maybe…The bar they'd left earlier seemed OK…

George thought about it, and as he did decided it was a great idea. Five minutes later he was pulling away from the hotel and heading down the road. He parked up and pushed open the door, and was pleased to see it busier than when they left. Taking up position by the bar, he ordered his drink and looked out at the scene before him. It seemed to be popular with a young crowd, probably students, with a dancefloor towards the back. He'd finished a couple more drinks when she pushed up next to him.

'Oh, excuse me!' she said brightly, in some accent he didn't recognise – northern? Eastern?

'No problem,' George replied, shifting over to make room. 'Hey, what you drinkin'?'

She turned to him. Her long red curls fell around her shoulders and a smile lit her face. 'Well, I'd like a Jack and Coke.'

'Jack an' Coke sounds great,' George replied. 'Make it two,' he said, addressing the barman.

'Thanks a lot!' she smiled. George expected her to disappear back into the crowd as she took her drink, but she didn't.

'Are you at the University?' she asked then. 'You know, we come down here like all the time – you get to know the regulars.'

George turned to face her, taking in the tilt of her head, her smile and the rise and fall of her breasts, and made a decision.

'No honey, I'm workin' here. Is that what you do though? You smart as well as beautiful?' It was a corny line, he knew, and didn't really expect it to work, but…

She laughed, sounding slightly drunk. 'Yeah, I guess! I'm doing History!'

'Girl like you ought to do Biology!' _OK, the alcohol was starting to talk now_.

Her eyes widened. 'And why's that?'

George leaned in closer. 'I reckon you know why.'

Against all expectation, she leaned in closer too. 'Reckon I do…hey, where you from?'

'I'm from Texas,' he said proudly. She smiled, captivated by the man with jet black hair and bright blue eyes.

'Wow…so you're like JR or something?'

George laughed. 'Yeah, kind of. What about you?'

'I'm from Minnesota…it's crazy hot down here…'

'It sure is.' He certainly felt hotter. 'So where's your friends?'

'Oh, I think they're busy…' she answered, taking a long drink. 'They all met someone…you know?'

'Well, a girl shouldn't be on her own…' She was almost making this too easy. He knew it wasn't right, but it was too hard to resist…'You want another?'

'Sure. So, what's your name?'

'Sandra,' she said, looking at him mesmerised over her glass. He was so much better than the guys her friends had found. As she did so, George flicked his gaze down to his left hand, and was pleased to remember that he'd left his ring at home 'to keep it safe.' _It really wasn't right, but…no-one would know…not even Dan…_

'George,' he answered, taking her hand and feeling a shot through his body that he hadn't felt in a long time. As the kids had grown older, it seemed he and Mary had 'relations' less and less – he thought it would be easier by now, not harder. He still wanted to, but it wasn't the same, and there Sandra was, with her tight top and little skirt, soft hair and perky little breasts…

'Hi…George…' Her tongue slid slightly over her lower lip.

A couple of drinks later, Sandra took his hand and pulled him on to the dancefloor. As the music slowed, she wrapped her arms around him and his hands wandered to her backside.

'So,' she murmured. 'You wanna get out of here?'

George looked down at her. She could probably feel perfectly well that he did, and the alcohol in his system was working together with his hormones to convince him that it wouldn't hurt anyone, that they'd never know, but was she sure?

'Yeah?' he asked then. The voice in his head telling him to resist was getting quieter.

'My place,' Sandra whispered in his ear. 'Now.'

The drive there passed in a blur. George was led into a rather untidy student house near the University, and pulled into Sandra's room.

'You sure?' George asked as she pulled him close.

Turning eyes on him that were almost as blue as his own, Sandra smiled drunkenly.

'Yeah.'

Even as his body yearned in agreement, something inside George made him ask again.

'Honey, really? You don't know me…'

'I don't care,' she announced, taking his hand. 'An' if my boyfriend can screw around, so can I!'

Planting a rough kiss on his neck, Sandra locked her eyes on his. 'An' right now, I'm lonely, an' horny…c'mon…'

Her words echoed his own feelings, and George felt himself respond. He pushed her back into her bed, pinning her arms back as he sat astride of her. _This was nothing_, he kept telling himself. _No-one would know…it was OK if no-one would know…_

His hand slid down her arm, under her shirt, touching the lacy temptation underneath.

'Ohhh yeah…' she moaned, arching her back into his touch. Sensing her permission, George peeled her shirt from her burning skin, and dropped it to the floor. He traced the line of her bra as she worked his buttons free, eagerly pulling his shirt loose. She sat up then, catching his eye with a dirty smile, and pulled at the flimsy lace containing her to release those perky little breasts. George's breath caught. Suddenly he knew what Tony meant about there being too many hot women in the world.

His hands couldn't resist, wandering from her newly exposed breasts down to the hem of her skirt, then up her thigh, over more slightly damp lace, and into the warm, wet core inside.


End file.
